A Permanent Solution
by FrostyFingers
Summary: Liz is in a dark place and there seems to be only one solution to ease her pain - WARNING: dark fic, self-harm
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I'd like to apologize in advance. This is a very dark fic, dealing with self-harm. Thanks to jackandsamforever for beta-ing this.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything.

**A Permanent Solution**

Living life to its fullest was a challenge for most people. Living life, _at all_, seemed to be _her_ problem. She didn't feel anything besides bitterness anymore. Bitterness and loneliness. It was depressing to say at the least and she couldn't tell where that had come from. She used to be a young and joyful woman, full of life and happiness and now she was blue and lacked the will to even crack a smile. It had gotten worse over time, the feeling of loneliness and pure anger at the world for putting her in a place like this, though no one but her was actually at fault for putting her in this position.

She had great friends, sure, but even they couldn't put a light in her heart anymore. Everything just seemed so dull... pointless. She hated her job, despised it for it was the main reason for her unhappiness. But what else was she to do but go there day after day, week after week. Another year wasted, wasted with nothing but sorrow for herself. She had stopped going out, spend most of her days off at home. Facing people meant pretending everything was alright, when it wasn't, because explaining the situation she was in with anyone was just too hard. People would judge her, friends or not, they would look at her like she had grown two heads and that was the last thing she wanted. To be considered something weird, something that wasn't normal when in truth all that was wrong with her was that there was just too much darkness in her heart after years of being mistreated by people who were supposed to love her, to be there for her whenever she needed them. And people had. Had pretended.

At first it had been sufficient for her, the pretending of understanding her issues; where she was coming from, but sooner rather than later they had realized that talking about the issues would mean taking responsibility. And responsibility could be a scary thing, especially when it came to another human being. After that realization, not even pretending was what she got. It didn't hurt, not as much as she had thought it would. She was used to people dropping her like a hot potato after all, it was old news really. She had started guarding her heart more closely, hadn't let people in as quickly as she had used to do before. People often mistook that as an act of shallowness on her part, but in truth she was just taking care of herself. And if closing herself off meant keeping out of harm's way, then that would have to be good enough.

Staying out of harm's way during her personal time was proving to turn just fine, but there still was the issue of work at hand. And work was what was chewing her up and refusing to spit her out lately. She couldn't handle it anymore. Any of it. She was used to her colleagues seeing her in a bad light and she had started to accept that fact. But now that _he_ had come into her life and messed it up even further was pushing it. At first she had considered all the good they were doing now that he was there, practically presenting all those criminals on a silver platter. The knowledge of doing something good for the world the only reason she had kept going as long as she had. But things had turned personal soon, too soon for her liking and she could feel herself falling deeper and deeper into that black hole that was trying to swallow her. Not only had he disturbed her life, the only life she knew, had ripped her out of the cocoon that she had created for herself. A blanket made out of the family she was trying to build. Her father, her husband... he had showed her that everything was a lie, showed her that sometimes life just wasn't fair. And she still had no clue why. Why he had to come into her life and destroy it, when she was finally starting to be happy with what she had managed to do on her own. For that, she hated him.

She hated him and loved him at the same time. _He_ had never lied to her. Had always been truthful about everything, even when he couldn't tell her the full story, he would never lie about it and she appreciated that now. It had pained her a lot, but she truly appreciated it. Because he had been saving her from a life with someone who had only pretended to be her husband, had played a part, while she had fallen in love with. They had wanted to start a family together, bring a child into this world. Just how would her life look now if she had actually gone through with this? It was another notch in her already bruised and battered, fragile soul. She just couldn't do this anymore. Couldn't pretend she was alright, when she wasn't. She was far from alright and she didn't think she would ever manage to find that will to live again.

Taking another big gulp from the bottle of rum she held in her hand, Liz eased herself into the hot water. She had filled the tub, not bothering with any soap, as hot as she could stand. The prickling feeling told her, that it really was hotter than she would usually use, but it would serve the purpose.

She wouldn't leave a note. A note that held words full of meaning but would feel empty to others. A note that would leave everybody pitying her sorry soul. She didn't want that. Didn't want anyone's pity. She had never wanted it before, she certainly didn't give a damn about it now. Taking another sip from the bottle, she placed it on the rim of the tub. She took the small piece of metal into her hand and studied it for a moment. It seemed harmless, but also so very dangerous. She turned her arm and looked at the veins underneath her skin, thinking about the blood flowing peacefully through them. Keeping her body alive, but not her soul.

She gripped the razor blade more tightly and set it against the soft skin of her arm, before pushing it in, drawing the first drops of blood. She wasn't stupid, she knew that a horizontal cut, would make her bleed, but it wouldn't kill her. No, she wanted a permanent solution. One that would end all this crap she had to suffer through. Taking a deep breath, Liz put the sharp object back against her arm and cut vertically through her arm. The water turned crimson immediately, the loss of blood making her feel lightheaded. She didn't even feel the pain in her harm, in her heart. For the first time in her life she felt...

Free.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Sooo apparently this no longer is a one-shot... I just couldn't stop myself. This wouldn't leave my head. Thanks to tmmachado, for reading through this for me :) I hope I didn't scew the story up. Let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer:** I still own nothing, but my feels... and after the last episode they're all over the place!

**Chp. 2**

Red simply opened the door and walked into the house when he didn't receive a reply after knocking. He knew how she didn't like him just waltzing into her home whenever he felt like it and he was set on showing her that he could behave, if he wanted to. Dembe followed him into the brownstone, carrying a basket of goodies he had bought for her on his latest trip.

"Lizzie? Lizzie, I know how you hate me barging in like that, but I've been knocking on your door for the past five minutes," he called out and nodded to Dembe, so the man would put the basket in the kitchen. "Lizzie, sweetheart? Your car is out front. I know, that you're mad at me, but can we talk about this?" He heard Hudson whining upstairs and frowned.

He made his way up and headed for her bedroom, preparing himself for the earful he would get for just walking around her house, when he saw her dog scratching on her bathroom door, whining and yapping. "What's wrong, buddy?" Red asked and Hudson looked at him before restlessly scratching on the door again. "Is she in there, Hudson?" He asked the dog, somehow feeling a little worried at the dog's reaction. He knocked on the wood a couple of times. "Lizzie?" He called out, but there was no reply, so he rapped his knuckles against the door again. "Lizzie, it's Red. Are you in there?" He tried the handle and noticed that the door was locked. She _had_ to be in there. "Lizzie, if you don't answer me, I'll come in. I'm not sure you'd like that. I on the other hand…" Hudson barked loudly, interrupting him.

There was a nagging feeling inside him. Something seemed off. "Alright, I'm coming in now."

"What is wrong, Raymond?" Dembe asked, climbing up the stairs.

"I don't know. The door is locked, but she's not answering," the Concierge of Crime replied, while taking off his coat. Then he threw himself against the door. It rattled in the frame, but didn't budge otherwise.

"Let me," his bodyguard offered and Red stepped aside, hushing Hudson as the dog whined some more. Dembe kicked right under the lock, bursting it and effectively opening the door, crashing it into the wall.

"Oh god," Red gasped as he hurried inside the steamy room. He dropped to his knees next to the tub. There was so much blood. Just so much. It was everywhere. The water had turned crimson and some of the vital liquid was smeared over the ring of the tub. Her hand hung off the end of it and some of the blood trickled down her skin and dropped onto the floor. "Lizzie!" He cried out. "Dembe, get help!" The bodyguard was pulled out of his state of shock and immediately made the call. Red pulled her up and out of the still warm water and onto his lap, crashing the bottle of rum to the ground.

She hung lifelessly in his arms as the man twisted his upper body to grab some towels. He knotted them tightly over the gazing wounds in her forearms, his hands already covered in her blood. "Oh, sweetheart, what have you done? Don't do this to me, Lizzie. Not you, please not you," he whispered frantically against the side of her wet head. He was shaking, he knew it, he could barely get his fingers to work how he needed them to.

"Raymond, Doctor Parker is on his way to the closest safe house. It will be faster than waiting for an ambulance to arrive at this time of the day." It seemed like his friend and employer wasn't even paying attention. "Raymond!" The man turned his head and looked at him with fear clearly visible in his eyes. "Let's take her to the house. She'll be fine." He realized he wasn't even sure if the woman was still alive, but he wouldn't dare suggest she wasn't.

"Dembe, get my coat and put it over her. I don't want her to freeze," Red said, his voice wavering slightly as he stood, careful as not to jostle the body in his arms. The tall man did just that and tucked the long coat tightly around her.

"Do you need me to carry her?" He asked as Red hurried past him.

"I got her," he answered without stopping once. "Take Hudson, she will want him close."

They quickly made their way to the car out front and Dembe pulled off the curb, making his way to the safe house as fast as possible.

Doctor Parker, a retired surgeon, was already waiting for them and ordered them to put Liz on the closest table so he could get right to it. "Dembe, get me some more towels and hot water. Ray, I want you to keep talking to her. Maybe you can get her to wake up," the elderly man said as he started working on her left arm.

"Lizzie," Red started softly, pushing some wet strands from her face. "Sweetheart, can you hear me? Please, sweetheart, if you can hear me, open those beautiful eyes for me. You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine." He pressed a gentle kiss against her temple as the doctor restlessly tried to save her life.

Red had never felt that helpless before. All he could do was watch. Watch and hope that his Lizzie wouldn't die.

He sat by her side, holding her hand in his, refusing to leave even for a minute, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was safe. Doctor Parker had managed to save her life and also Red's, really. Since losing Lizzie would've killed him, of that he was sure. Now all she had to do was wake up. Red had carefully pulled a thick sweater over her head and dressed her in sweatpants, so she wouldn't be cold. She had been wearing her wet bra and panties for too long as it was. Now she was buried under the thick covers, which were pulled up to her chin and only the hand he was holding was slightly sticking out. He noticed immediately how her eyelids fluttered, before they slowly opened. She looked confused for a moment, until she saw Red sitting at her bedside.

She closed her eyes tightly and some tears escaped, the hot wetness rolling down her still pale cheeks. She remembered, she remembered alright and she did not want to be here. She had chosen not to be here anymore and he hadn't even been able to give her that.

"Lizzie," he breathed out, not sure how to proceed.

"Why?" She sobbed, her voice breaking with that one word. "Why couldn't you just stay away?"

He looked at her in shock. "Sweetheart –"

She pulled her hand out of his and winced at the pain that shot through her arm. "You come into my life and ruin everything!" She tried to shout, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. "And when I finally find a way out of this, away from all of your shit, you come and destroy that too?!"

"Lizzie.." He shook his head and swallowed hard.

"How dare you! I don't have anything left, you took everyone away from me! I wanted to die, Reddington! I WANT TO DIE!" She yelled through her tears.

He was on his feet in seconds, roughly grabbing her upper arms and shaking her slightly. "Don't you dare say this!" He hissed dangerously. "How dare you?! How could you just do this?! How could you try to kill yourself?!" His voice was raised by now.

"It's not like anyone cares anyway!" She spat.

He felt an icy fist close around his heart at her words and he released her arms, not wanting to hurt her any further. "I care. You have to know how much I care," he choked out and a couple of tears ran down his face. "Lizzie…" His voice was strangled and he flopped back into his chair, dropping his face into his palms. "How could you, Lizzie?" He asked quietly.

All anger was forgotten when she saw his tears. She wanted to reach out to him, but was too afraid. What had she done, indeed. She had never wanted to end her life before, but this time it seemed like a permanent solution to her problems. She felt so empty, so cold, so lonely. Liz stretched out her hand as the tears continued flowing down her cheeks. "Red," she sobbed and he looked up at her, immediately grasping her hand and squeezing it tightly.

"I care so much, Lizzie. If I hadn't… I… oh god, you could be dead!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly, refusing to let go of his hand.

Red stood and Liz was afraid he would leave now, but instead he sat down on the mattress and pulled her into his chest, tucking her head under his chin, his arms closing tightly around her shivering form. "Don't ever do this to me again. I can't lose you, Lizzie. You mean too much to me," he said into her hair.

Her arms went around his back, careful not to hurt herself, but all the while feeling the need to be even closer to him. "I'm sorry," she whispered again.

He pulled back slightly to look at her face and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, before gently wiping her tears. "No more of that.," his voice was slowly finding its strength again. "You're alive. We'll get through this, Lizzie. I promise you that." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering a little longer.

"Thank you," she said and then wound her arms around his neck to pull him close again. "Thank you for saving me."

"Thank you for saving _me_, sweetheart."


End file.
